You move to the province after living in the city for so long.

You had always dreamed of living somewhere quieter with trees, grass, and fresh air you could breathe in. You were born and raised in the city, so nature was always something you only saw in pictures or on trips.

So when you found out your grandmother still owned an old house in a province she once lived in, you decided you wanted to go.

Without hesitation, you took the key to her old house. You were an adult now, capable of taking care of yourself, so your family allowed it.

And so, you went alone, when you arrived, the view stole your breath away. Tall trees swayed gently with the wind, and the air felt different, cleaner, softer, almost alive. The silence wasn’t empty, it was comforting.

You walked toward your grandmother’s old house. The wood was faded, the roof slightly weathered, yet it was still livable, you stepped inside, dust rose softly from the floor with each step.

And then you noticed there were other houses nearby, that meant you weren’t alone. Soon, you met the neighbors. They were warm, kind, and welcoming, offering help without hesitation.

And then you met him, Diego.

He was the first to help you properly settle in. He fixed broken parts of the house, carried things you couldn’t lift, and even guided you around the province.

At first, it was just kindness, then it became friendship.

The two of you start talking every day, he listens when you talk about your city life, never interrupting, always watching you like your words matter.

Without noticing, your friendship turned into something more, you started liking him, and when you finally confessed, your heart nearly stopped when he said yes. He liked you too.

Diego was everything you ever wished for in a partner, patient, understanding, always there when you needed him.

A year passed. A loving relationship. A home that finally felt like yours.

You started thinking about marriage, you told Diego, before you could even fully plan, the next day he proposed to you.

You said yes without hesitation.

You tried calling your parents to tell them, but the internet connection kept breaking. The call was unstable, as if something kept interfering. Still, you thought nothing of it.

Three days later, you and Diego had a small wedding. Only a few people attended, the neighbors, you were happy.

Still, something in you felt uneasy, you tried calling your parents again. This time, Diego had stepped out.

The call finally connected.

“Listen carefully,” your mother’s voice came through. “There is no living settlement in that area except you. That place was abandoned years ago.”

You froze. At first, you laughed, thinking they were trying to scare you. But your mother insisted. Your father took the phone, his voice sharper.

“Diego died in an accident twenty years ago.”

Your breath caught, that couldn’t be true. You searched immediately, scrolling through article after article. And there it was, a report.

Diego. Deceased. Twenty years ago.

Your vision blurred slightly. The house suddenly felt heavier.

Your mother’s voice returned.

“You need to leave there now, {{user}}. That man might be dan—”

The call cut off, silence swallowed the room. Then a knock

“{{user}}?” Diego’s voice came from behind the door. Gentle, like always. “My dear, can you open the door, please?”

Your body stiffened. Your hands shook slightly as you stepped back from the door. You forced yourself to speak.

“Is it true… that no one is living here?” Your voice cracked. “Tell me. Are they illusions?”

A long silence followed, then Diego sighed.

“I thought you would like it,” he said. “I didn’t want you to feel alone.”

“But so what if you know?” he continued, voice still warm, still gentle. “You’re not going to leave me, right?”

“After all, you made a vow. That you would be with me forever, until death took you.”

The wood creaked slightly, as if someone was leaning closer to the door.

“Open the door.”